The weekly Floridian. [volume] (Tallahassee, Fla.) 1867-19??, 1887-12-01

heart contracting with spssm of dread,
"perhaps letter was stolen from me de-
spite my caution AMI perhaps it was the
one for which Nine. Andre is looking"
Reassuring the unhappy woman as best
he could and promising TO seek her hus-
band and put him on his guard as soon
as he reached the city, FASTENED to depart
oppressed by n feeling of pain and terror
which he could not explain even to him
self. Unfortunately, the circuit that day
activity with which he leaped the hedg-
es and bitches and plunged through the
swollen streams he was behind time when
he reached the parish.
Yes" answered the receiver to whom
he had gone at once on his arrival there
was letter for Nine. Andre, and you
carried it oat. Moreover" his colleague
continued, some one has been here at
every mail asking the same question"
All this was a thunderboit to Father
Martin, for he saw at once that the re-
sponsibiiity for what might occur rested
upon him, and upon him alone. He flew
rather than ran to the carriage stand
which made the service between the rail
road station and the city. George An
Dire had arrived and departed immediate
Y afoot for his village home. Martin
felt as if he would swoon with horror;
the prospect of catastrophe, for which
he alone was to blame, rose up before
him like a nightmare. He could see
nothing put the anguished face of the
frightened wife, the wondering eyes Of
the two little children, and this man the
loving husband and father, returning
with heart full of JOY to meet death al
most on his threshold, and through the
fault of his friend Martin, the postman
He hesitated not an instant, not even
long enough to enter his own house; he
must be at the crossing of the Burned
Mill road before Andre could possibly
arrive there.
Those who saw him passing absorbed
in thought, and seemingly unconscious
of everything about him watched him
wonderingly
What grave aft: - could provoke snch
breathIess speed fro man who had but
just returned from his route worn out
with fatigue and hurry: A fourth of the
distance from the mill he learned that
Andre had passed some time ago, the joy
of return lending wings to his feet the
hope of averting a misfortune had lent
wings to feet of Martin. Nevertheless
he was far in advance of the postman un
less he cut across the country and made
directly, regardless of obstacles for the
old mill itself, a more difficult path to
pursue, of coarse, but that mattered lit
tie if it brought him there first.
Making all haste he could, night had
fallen when Martin arrived at the place
truly proptious spot for an ambush
narrow cut between high embankments,
on both sides of which clusters of trees
and shruhbery formed an impenetrable
shade. Every moment flying clouds
toa.ed across the face of the moon, whose
pallid rays shining through the yelling
mist still more increased the sinister as
pect of the landscape. Suddenly the noise
of an approaching foot step caught Mar
tins ear. IL was Of course, George Andre
coming and after all his hurry only five
minutes behind him. He would 90 to
meet him.
All at once there was binding flash,
a sharp report, and as Martin dropped to
the earth, ball through his lungs, a
heavy stick descended upon the head of
the assassin, and he lay beside his victim
lfeless
Nine. Andre, unable to overcome her
nervousness had gone to meet her hus-
band. Returning quietly by cross path
that led them behind the hill the strange
behavior OF a man crouching in the un-
dergrowth-a man who his wife insisted
was no other than Jean Bruno himself
had caught Andres attention. The rest
we know.
" He has died for you, George" said
Nine. Andre. sadly, as leaning over the
PROSTATE body, they saw by the cap and
uniform that 1t was their friend the post
man.
But Martin was not dead. He lived,
but only long enough to tell them how
the letter which apprised Nine. Andre of
her husbands coming had been stolen
from him. and how, determined TO avert
the consequence of even an nnintentional
breach of duty, he had fastened to the
mill.
"Though my fault" he murmured,
G. your life was imperiled ; it was right
that mine should be given in atonement."
A moment later Martin was dead =
Translated from the French Of Louis
Coll1s.